and longing clang
of churchbell song vesper
is finished
and fades,
the able, charmed silence
of twilight descends
to swathe in its
shadow, half a gently-
tilting planet.
And then—
out come the rats
from the west
to the east,
from their dark wombs
of nests
to raze our grand Empire
of Day to the street
by reclaiming with glee
our most thoughtless-
ly tossed
post-dinner bags
of hot trash
as their feast.
